


play me silence, please

by swallowtail (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bucky likes to meddle, Darcyland, F/M, Fluff, Sign Language, mute!Darcy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 03:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1289656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/swallowtail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Nice to meet you!] </p><p>Steve reads this aloud and looks curiously at the brunette bouncing on her heels."You got a sore throat, or...?" he questions, but she just smiles, dances her fingers across the screen, and offers it to him. </p><p>[I'm a mute.]</p><p>Steve nearly punches himself. Two minutes with her and he's already being an insensitive dick. Perfect.</p><p>***</p><p>After a spectacularly awkward first meeting, Steve hopes he hasn't ruined his chances of getting to know Dr. Foster's assistant. Luckily for him, Darcy has always believed that actions speak louder than words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. adagio

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy, here comes my first attempt at a multi-chaptered fic. It's gonna be a bumpy ride.

The rich aroma of roasted beans pulls Steve out of the dizzying report in his hands. Bruce sets the cup down and sits across from him, nursing a green mug filled with what smelt like peppermint tea. After reading the same sentence three times in a row, Steve puts the paper down and reaches for his coffee.

"I understood only half of that." Bruce chuckles lightly and pushes the bridge of his glasses.

"I'm impressed you managed to read that far," Bruce says, tapping the report. "I know you wanted to be kept in the loop about the new uniforms, but it's a lot to take in." Steve gives a shrug.

"If they can keep agents safe, then it's fine - confusing reports and all," he replies, sipping at his coffee. Steve doesn't doubt that SHIELD trains their agents very seriously. But when you compare them to a certain assassin and sharp shooter duo, a little increase in personal protective equipment doesn't hurt. The fact that Coulson came back from the dead last year had nothing to do with it. At least, that's what Tony said before he spammed Fury's e-mail with prototype armour designs. Steve's attention snaps back to Bruce, who is eagerly annotating the blueprints.

"...less bulkier than the previous design, but can withstand twice the force from shrapnel and armour-piercing projectiles. There's also small cameras which analyse the environment you're in, changing the texture of your armour accordingly. Tony may be eccentric, but he knows what he's doing," Bruce concludes, and Steve agrees. Both men know they can't save everyone on the field, but they sure as hell can try.

"Sorry to interrupt you two, but this is important!" A whoosh of cool air flows into the lab as Dr. Jane Foster scurries towards Bruce, wisps of hair flying out of her otherwise neat bun. Jane pulls out a endless series of numbers from her coat, babbling enthusiastically while Bruce nods sagely. Steve takes this as his cue to leave, scooping up the blueprints with a quick nod to the scientists. He turns towards the door and someone barrels straight into his chest.

It's not uncommon for people to accidentally run into Steve and be knocked to the ground - or in Clint's case, sprain their ankle while attempting a 'friendly' dropkick. But the flash of shocking red lipstick is enough for Steve to grab the stranger, the tall stack of papers flying from her hands and raining down upon them.

"Are you okay, miss?"

The brunette blinks, her bright lips wide open in shock. She nods before dropping to the ground, searching frantically for her papers amongst a sea of white. Steve looks down and realises his hands are empty.

"Ah, shit."

Jane and Bruce are oblivious to the two of them scrambling across the floor, occasionally swapping papers with awkward smiles. Steve tries not to linger on the warmth of her fingertips as they brush his skin. The brunette smiles and mouths 'thank you' before placing the stack of files beside Jane, who jolts in surprise.

"Oh, how rude of me - Darcy, this is Dr. Bruce Banner and Commander Rogers," Jane says, and Darcy gives a brief smile to Bruce. Both scientists dive back into their world of numbers while Steve offers his hand to Darcy.

"Steve is fine," he adds, and Darcy eagerly shakes his hand. She pulls out a tablet with an eye-catching plastic cover (van Gogh's _Starry Night_ , Steve notes) and types something out.

[ _Nice to meet you!_ ]

Steve reads this aloud and looks curiously at the brunette bouncing on her heels.

"You got a sore throat, or...?" he questions, but she just smiles, dances her fingers across the screen, and offers it to him.

[ _I'm a mute_.]

Steve nearly punches himself. Two minutes with her and he's already being an insensitive dick. Perfect. There's an apology ready on the tip of his tongue, but Jane has already dragged Darcy and her tablet towards a complicated machine. A cool voice sounds from above.

"Commander Rogers, your presence is requested at the training range."

Steve doesn't realise he's still staring at Darcy until she meets his eyes and points to the ceiling. He gives a jerky wave in response before he turns on his heel and swiftly exits the lab. When Steve rounds the corner, he slaps his face in embarrassment and groans.

There's no way in hell he's telling Bucky about this.

\---

Bucky finds out about it anyway.

The soldier's loud cackles draw the attention of the whole diner and Steve sinks lower into his seat.

"S'not funny, Buck," he mumbles, jabbing his fork into his pie. He must look ridiculous - brooding over a (rather delicious) desert while his 'friend' enjoys his misery. Every time he sees a flash of red, whether it be the vinyl seats, tiny ketchup packets, or the neon 'OPEN' sign, Steve sulks even more. Bucky, unfortunately, is having none of his shit today.

"So, what the hell did you do? Did you apologize to her?" presses Bucky, clearly relishing in Steve's pain. Steve shakes his head and shoves more pie into his mouth. The less said, the better.

"Don't tell me you just fucking _left_?"

Steve doesn't meet Bucky's eyes. He swallows and gives a stiff nod. Bucky reclines into the seat and gives a low whistle.

"Just when I thought you fucked up with Beth-" Steve twitches at the name "- you go and pull this shit. I'm kind of impressed." Steve throws a balled up napkin at Bucky, who bats it away effortlessly.

"You're not helping, jerk,"

"Then what's the plan, punk?"

"I'm working on it," mutters Steve, the fork clattering loudly against his empty plate.

When he and Beth separated, they had been dating for just over a month. Beth was a little hurt and confused, but understood that Steve just wasn't ready for a committed relationship.

"It's a shame, really," she says, giving Steve a sad smile and a chaste kiss on the cheek. "You've practically ruined other men for me now."

So they parted ways with her being none the wiser about Captain America, the Avengers, or SHIELD - and it was probably for the best.

Reports of the Winter Soldier landed on his desk the next day.

The next three months were almost too emotionally taxing for Steve. Pieces of his best friend were still inside the man they called a ghost: and Steve was determined to find them. Some days they'd see progress, and other days he'd leave the interview room to vent his anger in the gym. The worst days were ones which would end in the Winter Soldier being tranquilised after attempting to break Steve's neck.

On the ninety-seventh day of therapy, Steve was called a 'punk' and other colourful expletives by Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. According to SHIELD records, the two then had a brief 'glad-you're-not-dead-or-brainwashed' fight, resulting in a broken table, several dents in the wall, and a cracked two-way mirror. It was during the scuffle that Steve realised what he really wanted was a friend. Being out of place in the modern world was something he couldn't come to terms to by himself.

Steve frowns.

Maybe that's why he's so upset about the incident with Darcy. He would have liked to have another person to talk to outside of the Avengers or SHIELD. Bucky must have figured this out too, because he's staring at Steve with an unusually serious face.

"Talk to her," Bucky finally says. Steve raises an eyebrow, hoping his 'no shit' expression was as clear as day. Bucky rolls his eyes and leans forward. "Chances are she's not offended, with you being 'Captain America' n' shit. She's a lab rat, right? Jus' go down there and do your thing."

Steve hesitates. "And if I get thrown out the labs for harassment?"

"Then you're fucked."

Steve's head thuds loudly against the table and Bucky waves his hand at the waitress.

"We're gonna need another slice of pie here, Celia."


	2. andante

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind words and I apologise for the delay.

"Do you mind if I join you?"

Familiar red lips curve into a smile as Steve slides onto the bar stool.

In the end, Steve decided that going down to the lab was a little suspicious. The plans for the new SHIELD armour were ready for prototype production. What other excuse could he have for hanging around? He didn't want to bother Jane or Bruce. He didn't want to be harassed by Tony. And he _definitely_ didn't want to offend Darcy even more. So the 'Man With A Plan' decided that a 'tactical retreat' was in order - that is, until a less awkward opportunity presented itself. When Steve saw the unmistakable flash of crimson in the team kitchen a week later, he knew it was now or never.

"I, uh, want to apologise," Steve begins, gauging Darcy's reaction. She only tilts her head in confusion. Well, she hasn't walked away in anger, Steve thinks, which is a good sign. "I was a little surprised when you told me you couldn't speak. I hope I haven't offended you," he continues, rubbing the back of his neck. "If I have, I'm really sorry."

Darcy blinks, twirling the fork in her hand. Steve prays it's not about to be acquainted with his eye socket (he should _really_ stop listening to Natasha's war stories involving cutlery). Recognition finally dawns on Darcy's face. She pulls her tablet out of nowhere and starts scribbling a message in a broad, loopy hand.

[ _It's cool. Thanks for not freaking out._ :) ]

The little smiley face at the end makes the corners of Steve's mouth twitch.

"Thanks," Steve says, grabbing his lunch from the fridge. Darcy raises an eyebrow at the various foods he puts on the counter: two foot-long sandwiches, a bowl of pasta, orange juice, and half a pumpkin pie. The first sandwich is halfway to his mouth when the tablet slides in front of him.

[ _Is this some sort of Breakfast Club joke?_ ]

A piece of lettuce falls from his sandwich.

"I have no idea what that means."

Darcy shakes her tablet vigorously, clearing the screen. She gestures at the food, looking at Steve like he's a mad man. Oh, right.

"My metabolism is pretty fast," Steve explains. Darcy mouths 'ah!' in understanding. There's more scribbling, and Darcy holds up the tablet with a cheeky grin.

[ _Better eat that pie before I get tempted._ ]

"You wanna help me out, then?"

Darcy's eyes widen with glee. With one hand, she gestures away from her mouth - as if she were blowing a kiss - and mouths 'thank you'. Steve freezes. That's the first time he's ever seen her sign to anyone. No typed messages or written notes: she actually _spoke_ to him. He repeats the gesture.

"That should be my line," he murmurs. "Thank you."

Warm sunlight filters through the tinted windows to blanket the table. A comfortable silence settles between them both.

Steve lets his mind wander and gazes out the large windows. The view is impressive. High rise towers poking out all around them while people and cars weave their way through the streets. Each man and woman going about their lives in their own way. Carrying their own burdens, fighting their own battles. Superheroes in their own right, Steve thinks. He looks up to meet Darcy's curious eyes. Her hand is still hovering over the tablet when her phone goes off. The message makes her frown and she hastily shoves the last bit of pie into her mouth.

[ _I'll see you around?_ ] she types. Steve can't help but chuckle at Darcy's puffed cheeks.

"Definitely," he says, and the hopeful expression on Darcy's face morphs into a radiant smile. Later that day, Steve catches a glimpse of a man who looks like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders. It takes him a while to realise it's his own reflection.

\---

Steve shifts the gym bag on his shoulder, pressing the elevator button. It's been a few days since his lunch with Darcy. Aside from the passing 'hello' in the hallways, he hasn't had the chance to talk to her again. When the doors shut behind him, his phone chirps in his pocket. Steve takes one look at the face flashing on the screen and groans. Ignoring the call would probably make it worse, so he reluctantly answers it.

"How many soldiers does it take to babysit two Russian spies and a trigger happy lab assistant?" Tony immediately asks, not even bothering with a greeting.

"Hello to you too, Tony," Steve drawls.

"This is a serious, Cap. Can you handle someone who has terrible impulse control around electrical weapons - _cut it out, kid_ \- and make sure they don't piss off our resident assassins - ack!" There's some shuffling in the background and Tony's voice becomes distant. " _You know it's true, Lewis! Don't deny i_ -"

The call ends abruptly and Steve stares at the screen in bewilderment. He has little time to process what just happened when the elevator lurches to a halt. The doors slide apart, revealing Tony half-wrestling with someone over his phone. She's wearing a light shade of pink lipstick, but Steve recognises that smirk instantly.

"Darcy?"

Darcy immediately shoves the phone into Tony's face and waves at Steve. Tony peels the gadget from his cheek, shaking his head at Steve's gym bag.

"Uh-uh. Nope. Not today," he says, all but pushing Darcy towards Steve. "I want her back before lunch. If anyone asks, I made her do this two days ago. The vests should be down in the range already with Mr. and Mrs. Smith-"

"Should I be worried?" Steve asks, while Tony continues to ramble. Darcy gives a toothy smile and hammers the door button.

"-and for the love of God, do _not_ let her near the tasers!" Tony yells, as the doors finally shut in his face.

\---

"You're staring again," said Bucky, stabbing the knife into the training dummy. Steve turns away from the two women. In the corner of the range, Natasha examines her vest with sharp eyes. Darcy hovers by her side, diligently taking notes. Occasionally, Darcy would sign something to the redhead, who would respond to her gestures with ease.

"When did Natasha learn sign language?" Steve asks. Bucky shrugs and aims for the dummy's kidneys.

"When does she _not_ know a language?" Bucky grunts. Steve's gaze flick back to the other side of the training range. This time, Darcy senses his gaze and pokes her tongue at him. Steve smothers his laugh with a cough.

"So, what do you think?"

"She's hot."

"I meant about the _vest_ ," Steve emphasises. Bucky rips the armour off the dummy. There's a few ripped seams and smashed bullet fragments, but the vest still looks as good as new.

"It's pretty damn durable. Though Nat will probably say something about the fit," said Bucky. He leans against the table and nudges Steve. "You two have a good lunch?"

Steve sighs.

"Can this wait until later?"

"Just askin'. Besides," he nods at the women, "why do you think Nat is taking her sweet time with Lewis?"

Steve whips his head back. Darcy is clearly not talking about the vest anymore. Her hands are fluttering about, her face morphing into a variety of expressions. Shock. Relief. And something else Steve can't quite pick up. It must be an amusing story, because he's pretty sure Natasha has a tiny smile. Darcy's hands freeze when she realises how quiet the range is. Steve rounds on Bucky.

"What did you tell Natasha, Buck?" he hisses. Bucky gives a lazy shrug.

"Nothin'. Just that you made a friend." His innocence would have been more convincing if he didn't have a shit-eating grin on his face. Steve wants to press further, but the sound of footsteps from behind tell him otherwise.

"We're done for now," said Natasha, placing her vest on the table. Steve tries not to read into the double meaning behind the statement. "There's only a few things that Tony will need to adjust."

"Thanks, Natasha. I appreciate it." Steve turns to Darcy. "Did you get enough data?" Darcy gives a cheeky salute.

[ _It'll be like Christmas for Bossman!_ ] A series of annotated blueprints flick across her screen.

 [ _Hope you didn't get too bored babysitting us_.]

"I didn't mind, really," Steve insists. "I know how, uh... _insistent_ Tony can be." They both share a knowing glance. Insistent might be putting it lightly.

"Always been a sucker for pretty dames," Bucky mutters. He dodges Natasha's elbow aimed for his ribs and slinks up to Darcy. "I'm glad you two are having a nice chat 'n all. But if we don't get you to Stark, he'll use JARVIS to start whining at us." Bucky scoops up the vests and offers his elbow to Darcy with a wink. Darcy shakes her head and signs hopefully at Natasha and Steve.

"'See you around'," Natasha translates.

"Let me know if he gives you any trouble," Steve adds. Darcy gives a thumbs up as they leave. The door clicks shut. Natasha's questioning gaze is making him just a little uncomfortable, so he busies himself locking the knife cabinet.

"She's cute."

Knives are all back in their racks. Check.

"And smart."

Knives are all cleaned. Check.

"Are you an idiot?" Natasha asks. Steve yanks the door clean of its hinge and whacks himself in the face.

"What? No!" he says, grimacing as he lies the steel door against the wall. "I don't know what Bucky told you-" Natasha cuts him off with a raised finger.

"I like her."

"I'm... glad?" Steve offers as they walk to the exit. His neck feels warmer than usual when he rubs it. "Darcy is... a nice person. Even though our introduction didn't get off to a good start."

"I know," Natasha replies, one eyebrow raised in subtle amusement. "She said the same thing about you." Steve can still see Darcy's fluid hand movements and glittering eyes. He can't help but be drawn to her. It makes him wonder if one day, he can understand it all. Every flick, touch, and swipe.

He'd like that.

"So don't screw it up."

Satisfied with her advice, Natasha nods at Steve before turning on her heel. Steve is halfway down the corridor himself when he doubles back.

"Hey, Natasha!" he calls, jogging towards his team mate. If Steve didn't know any better, he'd say she was expecting this.

He takes a breath. One step at a time, Steve thinks.

"How long did it take for you to learn sign language?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my love to you, Darcyland. x

**Author's Note:**

> All my love to you, Darcyland. x


End file.
